Starbound: Then and Now
by Maximillion McMaximus
Summary: Captain McMaximus pays an unexpected visit to a famous Space Outpost. All he really wants is someone to repair his ship and send him on his way, but when the Space Outpost is victim of an ambush by an ancient race thought to be extinct, Max is joined by three survivors in hopes of saving the Outpost from the interstellar terrorists that threatened the universe, then, and now.
1. Last Resort

"S.A.I.L! You got any idea where we are?" I yelled across the cockpit. S.A.I.L, or Ship-based Artificial Intelligence Lattice, gave me a reply I wasn't looking for.

"We are 7300 miles away from a large astroid field, closing fast! I recommend exiting hyper space!" S.A.I.L said.

"Well, that's just great! You got any good news perhaps?" I yelled back, slamming the big red button that read 'Push to engage hyperspace'. I immediately felt the ship slowing down. Amazing how that works, I thought.

S.A.I.L was silent.

"Well, do ya!?" I persisted.

"Well, there are three other ships in our vicinity, there is a possibility that they could help us-"

We felt a bump. Not a small one, either. I almost flew out of my captain's chair.

"Aw, crap! what happened, S.A.I.L?" I asked anxiously.

"Well, it appears that our ship's thrusters have been severely damaged. Our movement has been critically impaired," S.A.I.L said. "Do you want me to repair the ship?"

"We've got bigger problems on our hands at the moment," I mumbled, pointing out the cockpit window. We watched helplessly as a large asteroid sped towards us.

"Well, S.A.I.L, this is the end," I said, dejected.

"Not necessarily," S.A.I.L replied. "We can still deploy our shields, however, we still might feel some of the shock, considering the size of that asteroid, but it's our only chance of survival."

"Alright then," I said, a small grin spreading across my face. S.A.I.L always knew what to do.

With a new surge of confidence, I yelled:

"S.A.I.L! Deploy shields!"

And he did.


	2. Dependent on Electricity

Oh, he did.

But it didn't seem to do anything. It still felt like we were caught in the blast of a supernova. I yelled as the ship's lights flickered and eventually went out with a very metallic _crack_. I stood up, feeling around my cockpit.

"S.A.I.L!" I began. "I need you to-"

Wait. The ship's power was out. _I'm an Idiot_ , I thought to myself. _Of course he's offline._ I peered out the front cockpit window, which had cracked from the collision. "Some shield," I sneered. The ship's shield system was very effective for protection against enemy fire, but enormous asteroids were a different story altogether.

 _I should install some emergency lights in here_ , I thought. _And while I'm at it, I should install a new cockpit door._ My ship's cockpit door worked entirely with electricity. I would need my Matter Manipulator to open it, but unfortunately it was in the ship's main room, on the other side of the door. I knew that making my cockpit door completely dependent on electricity was a bad idea.

As my eyes began to adjust to the darkness, I saw something vaguely through the cracked cockpit window. _It's another ship_! I thought. It looked almost similar to mine, actually, just a different colour. My ship was just a standard silver, but this one was jet black, with a big purple stripe down the middle. It was sleek, and beautiful. I hadn't seen a ship like that before.

Seemingly out of nowhere, my head began to swim. At first, I thought it was me squinting too much, trying to focus my eyes on the vessel in from of me. But then I realized.

The ship's oxygen tank ran on electricity.

And the cockpit was air-tight without the oxygen running.

"I'm really starting to hate this ship," I mumbled, kicking my captain's chair. It floated slowly across the cockpit. I smiled. At least my gravity boots didn't run on the ship's power supply.

 _Okay_ , I thought. _Let's assess the situation_. My ship's power was out, my cockpit door ran on the ship's power supply, as did the oxygen tank. I was stuck in my air-tight cockpit, and I was already starting to feel faint.

Things were getting more fuzzy by the minute. This wasn't good. I stumbed over to the cockpit window, seeing the sleek black ship again. _Maybe they can help._ I thought.

I could only hope. I liked that. Hope. I started to feel a small twinge, in the innermost part of my brain, of hope. I stood up, straightened my back, and held my head up. I could do this.

...Right?


	3. Phoenix

My eyes snapped open, bright light flooding my vision. I squinted, holding a shaky hand to shield the light. Where was I? The last thing I remembered was getting hit by a giant asteroid. My ship had completely shut down, and then, somehow, I ended up in this place.

I was in a room, on a stretcher. A metal surgical table sat beside me, with a leather bag sitting on top, probably housing tools and things of the sort. A tall monitor stood to my right, displaying a green line. Every second, the green line spiked, accompanied with a soft _beep_.

 _My heartbeat,_ I thought. _I'm in a hospital room._ I didn't remember being hurt, so why was I in here? I attempted to sit up. I felt a slight pull on my arm, followed by a sharp pain. I looked down at my arm, seeing a needle that had been stuck into my arm, attached to some tube that was pumping some kind of stuff into my body. I wiped the blood off my arm. _What were they pumping into me?_ I thought. _Isn't that kind of stuff for really sick people?_ I sat up completely, scanning the room around me. A counter was in the corner, and a door with a keypad on the handle beside it. I stood up, feeling my blood rush to my legs and the rest of my body, I was stiff. I walked over to the door cautiously, taking the chance to stretch my legs. How long had I been out? My legs felt as if they had fifty-pound weights strapped to them. Lumbering over to the door, it suddenly swung open, to my surprise. I jumped as an Apex ran in, donning a long white lab cat over what appeared to be a combat outfit.

"You're awake! Splendid! I'm terribly sorry I couldn't be here for your awakening, there were, uh, important matters at hand," the Apex spoke quickly, a thick English accent behind his gruff gorilla voice. "Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Doctor Stanford, I have been keeping you here ever since someone brought you in, days ago. They said they saw you got hit by an asteroid. What sour luck! In any case, they would like to see you. Come this way," The Doctor said, taking off and motioning for me to follow. I took one more look around the hospital room, rubbed my sore arm, and ran after him.

We ran down corridor after corridor, hallways with numbered doors every 5 feet. What a gigantic hospital network. I stopped for a moment, peering into another hospital room, which, to my dismay, was absolutely identical to the one I was in. I stood amazed, a look of disbelief upon my face. Suddenly, I felt someone grab my arm. It was Dr. Stanford.

"Come now, we haven't the time to stand around and look pretty! Keep going!" He yelled over the rest of the commotion in the hallways. Wherever I was, this place was incredibly busy. Nurses rolling gurneys and surgical tables on wheels ran past me. Secretaries yelled into phones over the rest of the noise, sitting behind desks every few hallways. It's amazing I didn't hear all of this when I was inside my room. Talk about soundproof walls.

Still following Stanford, he took a sharp right turn. Dodging around a rushing nurse, I whipped around the corner behind him. A metal door waited for us at the end of the hallway. Stanford slowed his pace to a walk.

"What's with this place?" I asked, catching up to him as he held open the door. We both walked through. "Where are we?"

Stanford was silent. Another door lay in front of us. He opened it, and I saw the answer to my question.

We were in a huge central area with a giant fountain in the shape of a bird in the middle. A rounded glass ceiling above us with an orange planet visible deep in space, far away. Stars speckled the sky, some larger than others, some brighter than others. I focused my vision on the central area in front of me. Vendors were set up everywhere. All kinds of people rushed back and forth. Pathways with hovering carts led to another area down what seemed to be roads that went on for miles. No doubt, this was the biggest Space Outpost I'd ever seen.

"The Phoenix Space Outpost!" I exclaimed. "One of the only intergalactic Space Outposts in the galaxy! I've heard about this place, but I've never been here," I said.

"Righto!" Stanford replied. "Follow me, your mysterious savior must be waiting!"

We walked down a pathway for quite some time. A hover cart came along after a few minutes. Stanford waved his hairy arm, motioning for the cart to stop. It did, and we got in. The cart door closed behind us with an electric _ZZZZT._ It reminded me of my ship's cockpit door. I smiled.

We rode in silence for about another fifteen minutes. The cart began to slow down, finally. Dr. Stanford looked at me and smiled. "We must have arrived, my friend!" he said, pushing a button. The cart door opened up. The driver of the cart looked back at us, hand out, most likely expecting payment.

"Ah, yes! I'd quite forgotten." Stanford said, taking 10 pixels out of his lab coat pocket and slapping it into the driver's hand. We stepped out of the cart, and it zoomed off immediately.

I turned around. We'd entered another area, this one significantly less busy. There were trees sitting here and there, and giant monitors on the walls, displaying the current news. Stanford spotted a spiral staircase and started towards it, once again motioning for me to follow. At the top there was another vendor area, and a door directly ahead of us, with a neon sign over top of us that read "Mechanic". Stanford opened the door for me.

"This is as far as I go, old chap. I'll see you another time," he said as I walked through. He closed the door behind me.

I was in what seemed to be a hangar, with broken down ships. I scanned the room for mine, concentrating. I felt a tap on my shoulder. I whipped around, slightly startled, and finally saw her.


	4. From Beyond the Stars

Wait...

Her?

I sighed. My 'mysterious saviour', of course, HAD to be a girl. That didn't look too good on me, but I wasn't really that concerned. I'd never been able to impress a single girl in my life. I mean, think about it. I didn't have very many bragging points to begin with. Let's see: My ship was a handmedown from my grandfather. It was an obsolete model, with not nearly as many functions as the newer models today. Hmm, what else? I thought it'd be a cool idea to wire EVERYTHING in my ship to the main power generator, and make EVERYTHING dependent on electricity. Dumb idea, moving on. I didn't have a crew, aside from S.A.I.L, who also happened to be my only friend.

Despite all these thoughts bouncing around in my head, I straightened my back and put on a fake smile. I even shot my hand out for a handshake.

"Hi, are you the one who saved me? Man, am I glad that you were there- not for any reason or anything, just, it was good to have someone to save me, heh, y'know? Uh, my name's Captain McMaximus! I mean, you can call me Max though, well you can call me anything, really, I don't really..." I managed. No matter what, I've never got the hang of talking to girls.

She was an Avian, shorter than me, but still looked like she could hold her own in a fight. Her feathers were pink, with white feathers around her face. A crest on the top of her head gave her a distinguished appearance, almost like that of a blue-jay. But, in this case, a pink-jay, I guess. She was wearing what I would've expected a mechanic to wear: Some dirty denim pants, a red shirt and a black jacket. She had what seemed to be a toolbelt-bandolier hybrid slung over her shoulder, with a wrench, hammer, and screwdriver hanging from it among the small cartridges that were in pockets that lined it. Around her waist hung an Uzi in a heavy-duty looking holster. _Whoa,_ I thought. _This chick means business._ I couldn't help but smirk, realizing the terrible pun I'd just come up with.

She shook my hand and attempted to stifle a laugh. She half succeeded. Still smiling, she stopped me.

"Hi, Max," she said, still giggling. "I'm Morgan. You say you're a captain? I've never actually worked with a full-on captain before."

I shuffled awkwardly. "Heh, yeah. Yup. I am a captain. Weird that you've never worked with one before," I stammered. At this point she noticed my awkward nature.

"Are you okay? You seem nervous," she said.

"What? Nah, I'm fine!" I replied, somewhat gathering myself. She gave me a weird look and changed the subject.

"Well, okay. Let's take a look at your ship," she said, already walking away, further into the hangar-like area. It was huge. To the left there was a giant window with the vast expanse of space on the other side. I almost gasped. Looking out to space is an experience that I could never explain. There's something surreal about it. So mysterious, so desolate, yet so dangerous. It was something an adventurer lived for.

Unfortunately, I wasn't really an adventurer. I barely had experience with exploration, or space, at all. I would have stayed on Earth and never even bothered with space exploration if it weren't for _The Beast From Beyond the Stars_ , a giant, bloated alien creature that crashed into Earth, taking out half of the planet with it. Smaller, alien "Minions" poured from it. Feral, lanky creatures with claws that crawled on all fours, attacked the human race almost endlessly. Many of Earth's inhabitants managed to escape, myself included, but I was lucky that I managed to escape.

It looks like this one requires a story.

I was at a family gathering when it happened, 3 and a half weeks ago. My grandfather had been in the middle of showing me his antique space ship for the millionth time. When the sky went dark. Dark as night, almost, but it was 4:34 in the afternoon. A huge figure became visible. An enormous, terrifying alien creature, pure nightmare fuel, was hurling toward us.

Believe me, when that thing made contact with Earth, we felt it. More than S.A.I.L and I felt with that asteroid. Earthquakes boomed, seemingly out of nowhere, forming giant cracks and crevasses in the Earth's crust. The crevasses devoured cars, buildings, people.

And then there was the explosion. The giant creature blew up, sending everything into a downward spiral of chaos. News reporters ran about, dodging aliens that began raining down, from INSIDE the giant creature. The aliens tore people apart relentlessly.

Acknowledging the end, my grandfather turned to me.

"Maximillian, we have to leave! We'll take the ship!" he yelled over the commotion.

"What about the rest of us?" I yelled back. My grandfather hesitated.

"Okay, get them. Be out here as fast as you can! I'll have the ship ready!"

I nodded, and ran inside my grandmother's house. As expected, everyone was freaking out inside. I sprinted in, tripping over a couple of end tables and crashing to the floor several times. Eventually, I reached the rest of my family.

"What's happening, Max?!" My younger sister screamed as soon as I ran in.

"Typical neighborhood alien attack, no time to explain. Let's go!" I replied sarcastically, before turning heel and sprinting back towards the front door.

As I left my house with my family close behind, we were greeted by, quite possibly, the worst sight I've ever seen, and probably will ever see.

My grandfather was busy fending off feral aliens. He was wielding an incredibly advanced-looking rifle. It was a long sniper plasma rifle. It was black, and it had a scope and a foregrip. Three circular green lights decorated the side of the gun and flickered with every shot. An air canister-sort of thing sat where the magizine should have, with three tubes leading from it to the side of the gun, on the opposite side of the three lights.

The shots were green, bright balls of a plasma-like substance. Each shot that made contact with the alien made a loud hissing noise, accompanied with the high pitched screech of pain, pitifully uttered by the alien. The smell of melted flesh hit my nostrils as my grandfather fired off shot after shot at the oncoming horde.

"Grandpa! I've got them!" I yelled over to him. He looked over and smiled.

"Great, now let's get in the ship-"

I then saw that sight, the sight that I will never un-see. My grandfather shouldn't have let his guard down. From the side, he was tackled by one of the monsters, and within seconds he was reduced to blood, organs, and body parts. I almost threw up, and tears instantly burned in my eyes.

"Grandpa!" I screamed, and ran at the alien still on him. I kicked at its head as hard as I could, forgetting completely about aim. Luckily, my foot connected, sending the thing sprawling across the ground a few yards away. Without thinking, I snatched up the plasma rifle laying not far from my grandfather's corpse. aimed it at the monster and took several shots at it. Bits of alien flew about as each shot connected and burned off pieces of the alien's arm, leg, and eventually its head. It sat lifeless after many insurance shots. I exhaled. I did it. I turned back to my family.

But they weren't there.

I swore, tears falling down my face, making streams down my face as they intersected with the dust that had gathered there. How long had I been fighting that thing? I shook my head, and regained my composure, to as much of an extent as I could. I had to get out of there. I sprinted over to the spaceship that sat in place, ready to take off. I was fairly familiar with it, because my grandfather had used to let me play in it when I was a child. As I grew through my teenage years, he had let me tinker around in there. I had got everything working in there, through a power generator and wiring everything to it. The ship was so old, I had thought that making everything electric would make it seem more cool, more modern. Little did I know that it almost led to my death, a few weeks later.

I took off, into the sky, into the atmosphere, and soon, into orbit. I had escaped.

Thinking about all of this, I continued to follow Morgan through the maze of ships in this giant hangar. My eyes darted from side to side as I searched for the familiar ship that I called my own. A good five minute walk later, we found it. Morgan turned around.

"Alright, here it is. I've been working a little bit on it, but this thing's ancient. I don't know how you even got it to work," she said.

I shrugged. "Me neither, really. It took a lot of wiring. The whole thing is dependant on electricity, save for the thrusters. I think they run on coal," I mumbled, not really proud of my ship. I waited for her to laugh. But instead she just gave me a look as if I was crazy.

"Coal!" She exclaimed, surprised. "Manufacturers haven't made coal engines for over a century," she said, clearly interested with the history of spaceships and how particularly old mine was. At this point I didn't know whether to be proud or embarassed.

Suddenly her facial expression changed. She looked at me quizzically, losing her excited nerd-about-ships look, and said:

"Hey, your ship's pretty small, too. You said you're a captain, right? But uh, I didn't see your crew?"

I froze. _Crap._ I thought. _Here we go..._


	5. Struggles of Knowing Little

Morgan strolled casually through my ship's main room.

She seemed amazed by everything she saw, as if she was a small child walking dreamily through an amusement park. I wouldn't know, but apparently ships as old as mine, in working condition of course, were extremely rare and sought after pieces of equipment. She stopped abruptly, with me almost crashing into her from behind.

"Yeah, I wouldn't have believed you anyway, this ship is one of the smallest I've ever seen!" She mused, turning around to face me. Again, was that a good thing or a bad thing? She seemed to have read my thoughts.

"And that's good! Compact ships are easier to maneuver, good for solo adventurers like yourself," she added. She seemed to put a little bit of emphasis on that last part. Perhaps she wasn't really that happy with me lying about having a crew. "Where'd you get it?" She asked.

"It was just a, uh, a _handmedown_ , from my grandpa, I guess you could say. I don't rea-"

"Cool!" She cut me off. "I've been working on it for a bit, but I haven't actually been inside! It's an EagleZX'42 Model, right?" she asked. I guess she actually expected me to know my stuff about ships. Was knowledge about ships a universal thing, or was I just stupid? Maybe both. I shrugged. "Not really sure, to be honest. I don't know too much actu-"

"Well, that's too bad. I'm sure we'll find out eventually, right?"

"Yeah, hopefully. My grandpa used to-"

"Right. Well, I'd better get back to work. I'll take you back, if you want," she said, cutting me off yet again. Apparently Avians couldn't care less about interrupting people, but it seemed she didn't even notice. _How rude_ , I thought, but I nodded and smiled.

"Y-yeah, that'd work!"

Within 10 minutes, we were back to the entrance. A desk sat next to the door. Morgan ran over to the desk and sat down, almost in one fluent movement.

She picked up a pencil and begin writing furiously on an official-looking piece of paper. I wouldn't have been surprised if sparks began flying off her feathered fingertips. Several minutes later, she stopped, flipped the page over, and slapped it into my hand.

"There you go! There's a form confirming that your ship is safe in my care. Just sign the waiver at the bottom, and we'll be good to go," she said robotically. I suspected she had to say that many times, to many clients. I turned over the page and scanned it. Morgan's writing was illegible at best, 2-year-old scribblings at worst. _Talk about chicken scratch_ , I thought. Man, I was just full of bad puns that day. I didn't even want to think about what the waiver was for. I just picked up a pen from a grubby cup that sat on the desk, uncapped it, and signed my name on the form.

Morgan took it, opened a filing cabinet to her right, and stuffed it in messily. After some trouble with several unorganized papers blocking the cabinet drawer, she finally muscled it closed, stood up, and stuck out her hand.

"Thank you for trusting me with your repairing needs!" She said enthusiastically. I shook her hand. "And thanks for saving me," I said cautiously, half expecting another interruption. Fortunately, there was none.

With a final wave and "see ya!" I left, breathing out a sigh of relief. That girl was definitely talkative. Taking a few quiet steps back towards the staircase, I was practically jumped by an Apex. It was Stanford.

"So, how'd it go?" He asked, not bothering to say 'hi' or 'sorry for scaring ten years off your life'.

I told him that I met the person who'd saved me and checked in my ship for repairs. That's about all that happened. As far as I knew, I wasn't going to see much of Morgan. I was planning on staying at the Phoenix Space Station a while longer, until my ship was repaired, and then leaving. Where was I leaving? I don't really know, but I couldn't shake the weird feeling that I didn't belong here, in this intergalactic community. I was no space adventurer.

At the same time, where would I actually go? There was no way I was going back to my home planet, not after _The Beast from Beyond the Stars_ claimed it, like a dog peeing on a fire hydrant.

I would have to find some other planet to live. That didn't sound too hard, right?

That's to show you how little I know about space.

Stanford slapped my back and threw his arm around my shoulder. "Well, m'boy, it seems like you're going to be with us for a while now. How about I set you up with a place to stay?" he said. After talking to Morgan, I'd almost forgotten how exaggerated this Apex's accent was. It seemed almost like he was faking it. I shrugged.

"Hey, if you've got a place for me to stay, that's great. But, uh, I don't have any pixels on me," I replied.

Pixels had become the universal currency in the past few decades. Paper money had proven bulky and significantly more difficult to produce as the years went on, so scientists created a material that existed sort of like a hologram. They somehow managed to mash some bits of the periodic table together to create a substance that they called "Pixels". They earned their name because of their distinctive golden yellow, 2 dimensional square appearance. They were easily manipulated, and were produced much more easily than money was. Eventually, Earth was able to share their idea with the rest of the galaxy, and every other planet in the area gave up their currency and took on our Pixel idea. Aside from now being famous as "the planet that got pulverized by a giant alien freak", Earth had become famous for the creation of Pixels.

I didn't have any pixels on me. I had the feeling that I may have had a container of them in my ship's storage, but I really didn't feel like going back into the mechanic's shop. Morgan had already talked my ear off enough.

"No, no, lad, there isn't a need to pay me! I feel something in you, potential. Come back to my flat, I'd like to discuss certain matters that need addressing," Stanford said quickly.

Fishy. All the same, I wasn't about to turn down a place to stay for the night. (Was it night? I didn't know, it's hard to tell time in space.)

Within 5 minutes, Stanford had hailed a hover cart taxi, and we were on our way. While inside the cart, I looked around the interior, just to keep myself occupied. Strangely enough, it looked almost exactly like I'd expected a taxi to look, minus the dirty seats and stains on the handles and things of the sort I was accustom to back in New York City. It even had that window that separated the front seat from the back. I never really knew what the use for that was, but it definitely was evident that these carts were made to mimic the modern look of Earth's taxis. Or perhaps Earth didn't come up with that particular design. I hadn't yet been to another planet, so I wouldn't know.

I looked out the window, as we raced down a path past people- well, _beings_. They rushed in all directions. I recognized some races: Avians, the bird-human hybrids that believe in that bird-god.. what was his name? Kleenex?

Then there was the Apex. They were short apes, most of them looking very intellectual, wearing glasses, scurrying about with clipboards in their big furry hands.

Then there were these fish people with three eyes, and I even saw a few robots. I didn't see any other _humans_ , however. As far as I knew, Earth was the only planet Humans were indigenous to, and taking into consideration that half the population was wiped out by _The Beast from Beyond the Stars_ , I guessed that humans were pretty hard to come by for most space explorers. I didn't know whether to feel proud, or self-conscious.

We stopped abruptly. _Abruptly_ , as in, I almost smashed my face on the seat in front of me. One thing these carts lacked was seat belts.

Stanford paid the driver, and we got out. It amazed me how he could navigate through such a massive crowd. I followed him to the best of my abilites, slamming into lots of people on the way. Eventually, we made our way to an apartment area built into a wall. It was a windowed area a hundred feet in the air, suspended on the space station wall. I scratched my head. Space architecture doesn't make any sense. I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could say a word Stanford had begun running ahead of me once again. I caught up and we slowed to a walk.

"Hey, Stanford, how are we supposed to get up there? Do you have, like, a teleporter or somethi-"

Before I could finish my sentence. Stanford grabbed my hand and pounded a red button on a device he pulled out of his lab coat pocket. Several pens, and even a coffee mug fell to the floor. Apparently this Apex lived in his lab coat. Weird.

A sudden flash of red light blinded my vision. The red flickered to a stunning white, and then I saw nothing. I felt around. What was happening?

Blinking several times, I soon came to my senses. I was standing in a livingroom-type area. Spacious, and fortunately not packed like the rest of the station. I was standing in Dr. Stanford's apartment. I stood in awe.

"Did you teleport us up here?" I asked, amazed. I rubbed my eyes, they still sort of hurt after such a blinding flash.

"That's right," Stanford said, but there was something weird about the way it came out of his mouth. I shook my head slightly. "I beg your pardon?"

"I said," he began. "It sure is."

It was then it hit me: Stanford was talking normally. No accent, just a plain old gruff gorilla voice.

"Now," American-Stanford said. "Allow me to explain."


	6. Vengeance

Stanford led me into a high tech looking room, and closed the equally high tech door behind him. He flung his lab coat off and sat down in front of a computer so fast that all of the things he had kept in that lab coat went flying every which way. I dodged a dozen writing utensils, a plastic spork, and several other strange looking devices before making my way over to Stanford. As he typed furiously, he began.

"Now, I've got some research to do. You're something else, kid," he said. I still hadn't gotten used to Stanford using his real voice. At this point, his other voice was almost more believable. I still didn't know why he was wearing that façade, but I had a hunch I was about to find out.

"Max, don't take offense to this, but there was a reason I told Morgan to fly out and rescue you and your ship. Most other people unfortunate enough to stumble across that asteroid field don't get a second glance…" he said, not looking up from the holographic computer screen that blinked and beeped as his furry fingers pounded onto the chrome keys on the keyboard, also blinking and beeping in its own way. It was almost hypnotizing to watch. I'd never been the fastest typer myself.

Stanford didn't speak again for what seemed like another ten minutes. I took the time to find another wheeled office chair, and sat down, my eyes scanning the room around me. This was truly a room fit for a scientist. All kinds of pieces of technology and equipment sat all over the room, things I couldn't explain if I tried. Walls were covered in post-it notes with formulas and other indecipherable lines of numbers. On one side of the room, I saw tables with half-built machines and inventions that Stanford had possibly invented himself. I even saw a weapon – or at least I think it was a weapon, nearly completed on one of the tables. A rifle, almost conventional looking, but I was sure Stanford had rigged it up to do something special.

Suddenly I was shaken out of my thoughts. He had stopped typing, and turned to me.

"This your ship, Max?" he asked, pointing to a picture of a silver space ship on the screen. Sure enough, it was the same model as mine. I nodded, and he almost instantly returned to his storm of typing. He turned back to me minutes later.

"Max, we picked you up for a reason. It seems like, for whatever reason, our satellites were able to detect a signal coming from your ship. Something different, something we've never seen. After being alerted to this, I requested to see you as soon as you came in. I disguised myself and threw on the fake voice, because, Max, I am a bounty hunter."

I panicked. What had I done to anybody here? This explained Stanford's combat armor under his doctor's attire, and the two twelve-inch knives hanging from his belt. "What did I do wrong?" I asked.

Stanford waved my panic away. "You've done nothing wrong yourself, at least I would hope not.. but there's something different about your ship. There's a signal that we haven't been able to track down, as if its always moving."

I had started my day thinking my ship was a worthless piece of junk, and ended it finding out that it was rare, envied, and has a strange signal coming from it. Maybe it wasn't so worthless after all.

Stanford stood up and stretched. "Max, I'll have to look into that a little more. But in the meantime, you're my guest. Follow me."

He started toward the door and I followed him, being careful not to trip over his coat and the many things that had been inside it. After punching what seemed like a million number passcode into a key pad on the door, it opened and we returned to his living area. Well, was it a living area? It seemed to me that he spent all his time in his lab. Maybe that was his living area.

He sat me down and walked over to a kitchen area. "Sit down for a while, I'll whip up a brew that my father used to make," he said. I had been sitting in his lab for what seemed like the last three hours, but I didn't object. I sat and the couch almost swallowed me. Stanford walked over with a metal kettle as I struggled and fought. I managed myself up, smiled politely, and instead chose go sit on a stool on the other side of the couch.

"So, I must apologize for a rather fake introduction," Stanford said, pouring a dark green liquid from the kettle into two cups. "Given my profession, I have to keep things safe, right? If you were any kind of a threat, it would have been better to have, you know, the jump on you."

I smiled. "Hey, it's fine. You seem like you're way more into science and technology and stuff rather than bounty hunting, though. What's the deal?"

Stanford took a sip from his cup, sat back and breathed a satisfied sigh. "So you're looking for a story, are you?" he chuckled. "Oh, I'm full of those," he said, and began.

"I was born on a planet not too far from here. My father was a scientist, as was my mother, and they always worked late in labs while I stayed home and got into mischief. Life was simple, until a tribe of Floran attacked our town and killed plenty. It's amazing to think that, for years, we weren't even aware of their presence. They had lived underground, and thrived. We were unaware of them, but them never unaware of us. But, they never bothered us. I guess one day they just snapped. My father and I, we took an evac ship to Phoenix, but my mother.. she didn't survive. It was once we showed up here that dad applied all of his knowledge to gaining revenge. He developed weapons and devised plans, but just didn't have enough spirit in him to return to his home planet. As I grew up and became a scientist myself, my dad was reaching his old age, and no longer had a hope of fighting back that his old self once had. Eventually, my dad became sick. Years ago, when we escaped from the Floran, my dad was attacked by one of them and fought it off. We had thought nothing more of that moment than just a close call, but the Floran put something into my father. I've studied it for years, a bacteria that feral Floran carry on them, that can spread on contact. A poison, almost, that can go undetected for years before taking its toll in one blow. My father passed away, seemingly out of nowhere, and his passing must have activated something for me. I wanted to avenge my parents, one day return to that planet and kill every last Floran there. I decided becoming a bounty hunter was a good start, a way to get experience. But there's still that fearful scientist in me. I met Morgan on a mission, years ago. We were in a different system, it was far away. Somebody had blackmailed her and put a bounty on her head, and so, I went after her. That girl can fight. She was known as one of the "Grounded", those of the Avian race that didn't believe in the Avian god Kluex. The believers, they always persecuted the Grounded. Avians have taken part in a civil war for centuries because of the Grounded. I lost to Morgan, and she spared my life in exchange for helping her escape from the war. Now, we're here, she's taken a job as a mechanic, and I work part time as a bounty hunter, but the Outpost usually puts me to work as a doctor or scientist, saying "Apex can't waste their natural intellect on such barbaric pursuits." Some day we'll leave, but neither of us can right now."

Stanford had finished his beverage at this point. Me, I'd taken a sip and put it down, without an intention to pick it back up. Maybe the Apex should use that intellect of theirs to make a brew that doesn't taste like old feet.

"What about you, Max? What's your story? We don't see too many humans around here," Stanford asked, kicking his ape feet up onto the coffee table -like thing in the center of his living room. The smell of monkey feet wafted through the air, and my face slightly contorted, but I didn't mention it. Instead, I told him my story.

"Well, that certainly is quite the tale," Stanford said. He checked his watch. "Well, that was a good evening. It's getting late. How about I get you set up for the night, and then we can find out more about your ship tomorrow."

That sounded good to me. Stanford showed me a room, told me goodnight, and closed the door.

Pretty nice guy, I thought. The room was spacious. A storage cabinet sat in the corner, and the ceiling was transparent. I could once again see the big orange planet, far away. I settled into the bed in the center of the room and was immediately washed over with a feeling of fatigue. Before long, I was asleep.

I dreamed – something expected, a dream that had plagued me ever since my escape from Earth. The Beast, the utter massacre. My family, gone in a flash. My grandfather…

Image after image filled my brain as I slept, as actively as if I were awake. The blood, the look of pain on his face, almost immediately replaced by an expressionless, cold, dead look. Looking back to see the rest of my family, just gone without a trace. Dropping everything and running as fast as I could to the ship, taking off as I watched the madness ensue..

My eyes snapped open and I shot up, breathing heavily. The same recurring nightmare. It still was hard to believe, that my family was gone. Stanford most likely felt it too, the pain of losing those who are close to you.

Suddenly, something registered. Just like Stanford's dad, I needed vengeance. I needed the sweet feel of revenge. But how? Was that goal realistic? Maybe it wasn't at the moment. But someday, I knew I'd return to Earth to send that big alien bastard back to its proper place.

I didn't really know where that place was, considering the thing blew up when it hit us, and I doubted I'd ever even return to Earth anyway, given my absolutely "fantastic" space navigation skills. But it sounded cool to say that I'd one day get revenge…

And little did I know, that day was coming.


End file.
